


Bottle Of Jack And A Lucky Strike

by AnonymousAddictions (KurtbastianJust)



Category: Glee
Genre: Alcoholism, M/M, Smoking, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:57:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KurtbastianJust/pseuds/AnonymousAddictions





	Bottle Of Jack And A Lucky Strike

_"If there is one thing I noticed about Sebastian Smythe when I met him, it was the man had no preferences. He never stuck with anything or anyone for very long. Every day it seemed to be different; his mood, his drink, his face, his cigarette, his boy of the night and even his fingernail polish._

_Sebastian Smythe is a magical being, and by that I mean that he always finds a way to surprise me. The only thing that never seemed to change about him was me. Even that, however, changed. Sebastian Smythe managed to change me and I still haven't decided if it was for the better or the worst._

_Before I delve into that, maybe I should start at the beginning before I knew Mr. Smythe even existed."_

* * *

**1 Month Previous**

Kurt pressed his fingers to the keyboard of his laptop, not sure how to start. He just didn't know how to start a story, or well, he couldn't remember. He couldn't place in his mind how a story developed or how characters normally interacted. What sentences ended in periods and what ended in exclamations? Once before, only meer months ago he could sit down at his desk, turn on Spotify and produce a work of brilliance in a few nights. Over the course of those nights the desk would become littered in hard ciders, wine glasses, chinese boxes from delivery and then at the end, it would be cleaned, the book would print out on a few 100 pages and slipped in an envelope and shipped off.

It was a process he'd perfected over the years but when the accident happened it all faded away. When Kurt was told his chances for ever walking again, let alone writing his award winning novels was slim to none, he'd felt at a loss. He had a 5% chance of using his motor functions to their full extent, the world had thought they had lost a beloved culture icon, one that rivaled John Green and Rowling. No one believed that Kurt Hummel, a week after the tragic accident, would stand without help or that two weeks later he would gain  _all_ his senses and functions back. However, once he proved to the world he wasn't helpless, they began to expect the newest book in the series that was planned to come out within the next three months. It was a lot to live up to.

There was only one problem.  
Kurt had forgotten how to write.

He knew all the technicalities, the letters went to words, words formed sentences, and from there paragraphs and then a finished work, but he had forgotten how to create. 

His shoulders slumped as he stared at the blank document, his head pounding. He clicked onto his web browser and went to the tab where his news article of the crash permanently stuck. He never was able to remove it, fearing if he forgot how badly he was injured he'd expect himself to do even more than what he had. 

 **"World Famous Novelist in Fatal Condition Due To Collapsing Bridge"**  
By: Sam Evans (August 15th, 2013)

**Ten people were affected by the Oakville Bridge this past Wednesday; At 8:14 in the morning the Oakville Bridge, once known for the 100 Meter race beginning collapsed onto traffic. Among these people were two children and six adults and although all survived we're not sure how Kurt Hummel, award winning author of "Broken" and "Stolen Eyes" is doing. At this point we know he has been in the Intensive Care Unit at North Summit Hospital and his family flew in last night to be with him. What we know currently is that his chances of survival are minimal and the world may have lost one of it's best fiction-romance authors.**

**  
**Kurt stopped reading when the article started to become a bio on himself, detailing how long he'd been writing, his first published work and even past lovers who were unable to come to the hospital. He hated it, other people were injured, he knew one had lost an arm yet all the media only cared about was himself. He didn't understand why being famous was all that important, he'd actually paid all the hospital bills for the other families privately just so they understood he didn't want the coverage from the media. He didn't want to be 'the guy who almost died'. He wasn't the only one hurt.

The families deserved more than a few lines in the paper and Kurt firmly believed that.

In the hospital, Kurt had found, despite the media insanity outside, a great multitude of his own family didn't feel inclined to show up. His father and step mother, as well as his brother and manager had appeared. His manager, Rachel, had mostly only shown up to see if they could ever expect another Anna Karol work to be produced, a series that was inspired by Rachel's own background in which she had been his muse. 

Kurt fought to remember anyone who had shown up to wish him good luck in recovery and failed to--

Oh. Blaine.

Blaine really deserved his own story in Kurt's mind. When the author had woken up to see the brown, dark eyes of Blaine Anderson hovering over him, his initial reaction was 'run!' Seeing as Kurt had been bound to the bed by a tangle of wires and IV drips, beeping and pulsing as a constand reminder that Kurt was indeed living this nightmare, he obviously couldn't run away. It was hard to explain why Blaine was a trigger for Kurt's flight response, but just seeing his face made Kurt wish that the bridge had done a better job at killing him.

Kurt and Blaine didn't exactly have the brightest of pasts. When Kurt had began writing his first romance series, he had been walking home and found a boy, homeless and cold, offered him a couch to sleep on and a warm cup of tea. Two hours later, both of them were naked committing an amazing crime on said couch. It wasn't until the next morning that Blaine admitted he was only fourteen and had run away when his parents grounded him for getting a failing grade on a test. He was in the eighth grade at the time.

Kurt Hummel, 23, fucked an eighth grader only just a month after Kurt himself had finished college. Needless to say that they had a Queer As Folk, Brian and Justin story for nearly a year until Rachel knocked sense into Kurt and got him laid by a 'real' man. Blaine was forcibly removed from Kurt's home a day later.

Kurt chewed on his lip, thinking about what he could write. He'd done everything, future romance, historical romance, romance with vampires and werewolves. He'd done it all... But there was one thing he never could do. Write something he didn't know.

He quickly stood, grabbed his jacket off the plastic hook by his door and slipped it on. Took his wallet and made sure there was enough cash inside to buy a few drinks and he walked out the door. He couldn't write certain people because he never really talked to them, so tonight, he'd meet someone new. Whether it be a drunkard, a drug user or a necrophiliac. He'd meet one.

He walked through the streets, his jacket wrapped tightly around his small frame, hair short due to his surgery. He held his phone in his hand debating whether to just get a map to the nearest bar but bordering the decision on exploring and discovering. He looked up, finding himself at the stairs down to a basement bar. He tilted his head and smiled, opening the door to a dark lit room, a few scattered men here and there and the bar, where a strange man stood.

Before Kurt even knew his name, he knew this man, whoever he was, was going to be his next story.


End file.
